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by lillyluna



Category: Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:11:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillyluna/pseuds/lillyluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their apartment in New York City is too clean and too quiet. Ryan just needs to go home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

It isn’t exactly a long flight back to Florida from New York but Ryan wants to get home so bad it feels like everything is moving in slow motion. There’s nothing wrong except that he hasn’t been away from home since Rio and after three days in New York, halfway through his meetings for the new fall line, he’d felt the need to just be home.

He leaves everything in their apartment and heads to the airport with just his wallet, his phone and two pairs of baby Nike dunk SBs. He kicks around his departure gate and tries to avoid the television screens. He pulls the hood of his sweater up and flicks through the baby pictures on his phone instead.

He tries to sleep on the plane but he can’t. He wants to be in his house holding his kids. He needs to know they’re safe which is ridiculous because he knows they’re with Michael and Michael wouldn’t ever let anything happen to them.

Ryan didn’t use to worry about anything but now he worries so much he can hardly deal with it.

He knows Michael is busy with the kids and he catches a cab home instead of calling him for a ride. The closer he gets to their house, the better he feels. He sprints up their driveway and heads for the garage door because it opens up to their kitchen.

“Hey, I’m home.” He calls out.

There’s cereal bowls in the sink and the dishwasher is open. There’s dog kibble on the floor and a stuffed dog toy has his face shoved halfway into the real dog water bowl. The familiar mess of it makes what’s left of the tight feeling in his chest fade away.

“What are you doing home? You have one more week in New York.” Michael puts down the can of formula and crosses the kitchen to kiss Ryan. “Like welcome home but what happened?”

Ryan kisses him back hard and shrugs, “I missed you guys, I don’t know.”

“Everyone’s good babe.” Michael hugs him, “You should have just called.”

“No, I had to come back.”

The baby in the swing lets out an impatient cry and flails his chubby arms.

“Yo Talan, chill.” Ryan pulls away from Michael and swoops the baby out of the chair, “I’m sorry I took your dad away from-“

“This is like one more bottle than he’s usually had by this point.” Michael says as he goes back to mixing formula. “Oliver never ate this much.”  
“He’s just growing.” Ryan smiles and settles Talan against his chest, he brushes some blonde curls off the baby’s forehead and fixes his little unbreakable glasses. “How’s he getting used to these?”

“Better. I think he’s figured that he sees better when he wears them but getting them on him is still a pain. He fights it for the first five minutes.” Michael shakes the bottle of formula and twists on the rubber nipple before handing it to Ryan, “Ol’s been pulling them off his face though, we have to watch him.”

“Where is Gator?” Ryan asks.

“Napping. Finally. It’s been hell getting him to sleep without you here.” Michael admits. “He was up until like twelve last night and then he woke up screaming at four and this one was up at six.”

“I’m so sorry dude.” Ryan kisses one of Talan’s fists, “If you want to go nap I can hold down the fort.”

Talan makes grabby hands for the bottle but Ryan waits until they’re sitting on the couch to give it to him. Talan drinks fast and greedy. Formula spills down his chin and Ryan wipes it up with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Slow down.” Ryan pulls the bottle out of Talan’s mouth, “You’re gonna make yourself throw up.”

Talan lets out an angry cry and kicks both of his legs against Ryan’s arms.

“He wants it back.” Michael points out. He grabs both of Talan’s feet in one of his hands to prevent him from kicking Ryan.

“I got it.” Ryan puts the bottle back in Talan’s mouth, “Chillest baby ever unless there’s food involved.”

Michael sits down on the other end of the couch and pulls Ryan up to lean against his chest. They both watch Talan eat but Talan’s blues eyes are fixed on Ryan’s face.

“He is,” Michael agrees, “I don’t even know how long he was awake for this morning before I went to get him. He was just chilling there babbling to himself. He didn’t even cry when Ols stole his glasses yesterday.”

“What a punk man.” Ryan laughs but he looks down at Talan concerned, “Did anyone say anything about them? Like did the other babies laugh at him?“

“What other babies?”

“I dunno dude.” Ryan checks the make sure the strap holding bright green plastic glasses to Talan’s head isn’t too tight. “Like at the beach or-“

“No Ry, the other babies haven’t been laughing at him.”

“I got him sneakers to match them. Dunk low SB’s for babies.” He grins, “If he has to wear dorky glasses at least he’ll have cool kicks.”

“They’re not dorky.” Michael defends the baby.

“They kinda are. No offense Tal man.”

Talan spits out the bottle nipple in response and dribbles  
more milk down his chin.

Ryan drops the bottle on the floor next to the couch and props Talan back up against his shoulder.

“Dude don’t.” Michael complains, “If he throws up it’s going on me.”

“Did you take him to the beach or something?” Ryan ignores Michael’s request but holds Talan closer to his own face inspecting him, “Because he has like more freckles I think.”

“We went out to walk the dogs and he lost his hat.” Michael admits, “He had sunscreen on though, he didn’t get burnt.”

“Freckles and glasses.” Ryan kisses Talan’s cheek, “I’m sorry Turkey you got like all my bad-“

“He’s going to hate you for that nickname more than the glasses.” Michael laughs.

“What are you going to do?” Because his hands are busy holding Talan, Ryan kicks Michael’s leg, “Call him baby until he goes to college? That’s just as bad.”

“Ow.” Michael punches Ryan in the arm.

Talan’s eyes had been drooping but the sharp jerk wakes him up. He frowns unimpressed.

“Dude,” Ryan kicks Michael again, “I’m holding the kid. You don’t hit the person holding the baby. It’s a rule.”

Michael doesn’t apologize but he also doesn’t hit him again. They both watch Talan fall asleep. When his breathing slows down and he goes slack in Ryan’s arm, Ryan takes the glasses off and passes them to Michael.

“Missed you.” Michael says. He kisses Ryan’s neck, “Glad you’re home.”


End file.
